6 February 2019
Hi Tom,
I'm not sure if I like winter.
It's magical for all of two seconds when the snow is fresh and pristine. But then it's a blackened sludge, poisoned with grime and grit. After that all you're left with are dark days and darker nights. A creeping cold that always finds a way past the heating.
And when it starts to fade it does so in a shower of constant rain. The sun is a stranger, a long-lost friend. A memory of idealised times
But then, when summer comes around that's exactly what it is. Idealised. We forget about the humidity. The unbearable searing heat, the cloying sunscreen and that burn if you ever dare miss a spot.
At least you can see the sky, though. It's not hiding behind a thick blanket of clouds. Whenever I look up it's grey and I just want to see blue.
First world problems, I know. But there are some things, when life isn't so easy, that you come to appreciate. That get you through the difficult times.
Though, despite all my complaining, I do have to admit the weather is milder now. Less rain, less of a freeze. More chance of going outside. And I take that opportunity. Unless otherwise engaged, I take my lunch to the dock and feast more on the sound of the wind blowing its way across the water, the freshness of the once winter-stripped air, which now carried little hints of the spring just around the corner.
Today I loaded myself up with soup and bread. I tucked a book in the bag with them, along with my intention of cracking it open; every attempt so far had failed. I laid each of them on the bench beside me and watched the world as it conducted its complicated dance.
The soup languished in the flask.
The book tried to flip open in the wind, until I weighed it down with the bread.
Clunking footsteps added an unexpected timbre to the performance going on all around.
"I don't know what they taught you in that Russian school of yours, but lunch usually means you eat something."
My lips twisted into a small smile as I looked round to see Rhodey approaching. I stood to give him a quick hug and shuffled my things over so he could sit.
"Hanging out with the unpopular kids today, are you." I said. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?"
"Haven't seen you guys in a while, thought I'd pop in."
"Out of luck, I'm afraid. Just me today. Steve's in Florida seeing if he can salvage anything of that drug case you guys were tracking until all your leads were murdered. And Bruce is somewhere researching something."
"Good thing I enjoy your company then, isn't it." He eyed the food sitting between us. "Mind if I have some? Been up since five and missed breakfast."
"Help yourself."
He was silent as he poured himself some of the thick liquid into the flask cap, the smell of herbs and tomato wafted out on the steam and swirled between us. He swiped a slice of bread from the bag it was wrapped in. He sipped and closed his eyes as the food made its way down.
"That's good. My stomach can shut up now." He dabbed his bread into the warm liquid and enjoyed that too. "You eating, Nat?"
"I'm not starving myself if that's what you mean."
"Sort of looks like it." He didn't flinch away as my eyes met his. They were steady and calm and it would have been unnerving if I wasn't so used to that being Steve's default setting. "Listen, you're no help to anyone if you're half starved, Nat. Your body and mind need the fuel. Things like that little knife wound from a couple of months back are less likely to happen if you're firing on all cylinders. So, I've left half of it. Just eat it, and the bread, and I'll leave you alone."
"Who sent you? Steve or Tony?"
"I sent myself."
I picked the flask up from the bench and tipped it to my mouth. The soup was still hot, but I didn't dare let Rhodey know that took me by surprise. He didn't say anything to me while I ate. Just let me make my way through the food as he ate his. It was only when he finished that he started speaking again.
"Look, I've been through it. Not wanting to eat. I've seen some shit in my time and it messes you about. But I found eating something that reminded me of happier times helps. I ended up spending more time thinking about the happy memories that came with the food rather than the reason I wasn't eating in the first place."
He looked off into the distance as I chewed on the final piece of bread. Food wasn't something I associated with emotion, it was about survival. He looked back at me and smiled.
"Just think about it. It'll come."
"What's yours?"
"Scrambled egg. It's simple but delicious and reminds me of ma."
I screwed the cap back on the flask, my stomach thanking me for what I'd given it, but neither of us made a move to go. The clouds hanging overhead reflected in the lake, adding an ugly hue to the water. I watched the sky, he watched the water. I don't know what he found there, hell I don't know what I found in the clouds, but it was enough to stem the flow of words and sustain the quiet for minutes at a time.
Then he sighed. It was as troubled as his eyes and for all his talk about making sure I ate, I knew there was something eating at him. He felt my gaze and looked at me, a little sheepish at being caught.
"Thanos went through all that trouble to bring balance to the universe," he said, "but why does it feel like the world is worse than it was before? I thought balance was supposed to be about order, not chaos."
"With questions like that you might learn more at Kamar-Taj," I said with a twist of my lips.
"You mean where I can learn to wave my hands around like a madman? No thanks, give me my suit. But seriously, it's a shit storm out there. I see no balance."
"Panic does stupid things to people."
"Looks to me like people do stupid things to people."
"We can't fix everything, you know."
He sighed again just as the wind whipped up and brought with it a spray of lake water. It joined the other damp patches still drying from yesterday.
"I guess you're right," he said, "how's the leadership life treating you, Director?"
"Oh don't you start." I resisted the urge to swat him on the arm. "Tony won't change it."
"Couldn't you, like, hack the system and change it yourself."
"Maybe, but it'll take a while and I'm trying this new thing where I don't break people's trust."
"Good luck with that."
"Are you sleeping?" I asked, mostly because he looked exhausted and partially as payback for the coddling earlier, he shot me a look that said he knew what I was doing.
"When I get time, it's constant. I just wanted to serve my country, I never wanted to get involved in the politics of it but it's difficult when they keep trying to use me as a puppet."
Ironic, really. This country would be lucky to have him in any of the top jobs. He was level-headed and impossible to buy. His traditional smarts were matched by his emotional intelligence, which gave him an immediate understanding of the situations he faced. But those who already occupied the top jobs were too blinkered by who had come before to think about who would come next. To them Rhodey didn't fit that picture so they pigeon-holed him into the role of War Machine. Maybe, in the end, that would be a blessing. People not caught in the red tape trappings of politics are often the ones to make a difference. They're not limited on what they can say or do, censored by lobbyists and polling data.
"Sorry it's fallen on your shoulders, playing that role. You're the best person for the job, though. No one knows how to keep the peace like you. If you want, I'll book you out for a two-week Avengers-related mission and you can just use the time to catch up on sleep."
Rhodey laughed and, for a moment, didn't look quite so tired. "Gotta watch each other's six, right?"
Our phones buzzed and dread pooled into my stomach just as it spread across his face. An alert from FRIDAY flashed on my screen. When I clicked on it she started playing the dispatch the police received. Another mass killing, also believed to be gang members.
"Guess there's no rest for the wicked, huh," Rhodey said as the recording finished.
"I'll go. You get some sleep."
The scene wasn't that much different from before. Blood everywhere. Bodies everywhere else. Drugs and money also decorated the apartment. I couldn't lose much sleep over bad guys being wiped out, but it was the why of it. That's what kept me thinking into the early hours.
16 February 2019
Bruce is a little hard to keep track of lately. Most of the time I think he's in his lab working on his plans for transforming.
To be honest, with the state of his office, he could be in there and I wouldn't know. I don't think the new year has really hit him. Actually, I'm not a hundred percent sure he knows another year has started. Since his announcement before the wedding he's thrown himself into his work and we only see him when he comes up for air or if we force him out for dinner. The last real exchange I remember having with him was when he took a look at me after I was stabbed.
Steve was concerned too. It's not rare for Bruce to lose himself in his work, but he doesn't literally lose himself. There was a day we searched the entire compound just to make sure we weren't going crazy.
He wasn't there.
Yesterday, he decided to give us answers. I like to think he came to the realisation on his own and wasn't pushed there by the several threatening voicemails we left on his phone.
But, Bruce being Bruce (by which I mean he's spent too much time with Tony) went the cryptic route. We drove out on a little daytrip. The scientist took the wheel, refusing to tell either of us our destination. I grabbed the backseat, putting my feet up as I worked from my tablet.
"And here we are," he said half an hour later as we pulled up in front of a building far enough on the outskirts of the city so as not to be hemmed in by others. There was some ground space too.
"And where is here?" Steve said, climbing out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him.
"My Hulk house," Bruce said, playing with the keys in his hands. I shot him a questioning look and he ducked his head. "Err, so Tony bought it. For me. You know, joint birthday and Christmas present. He even put a giant bow on the roof."
"A bow?" I said.
"I've told you someone just bought me a building and you take issue with the bow?"
"Just an unexpected touch," I shrugged, "but I can fully believe Tony buying you a building."
I'm not exactly destitute. A career like mine earns you a lot of money, when you invest it with consideration that earns you a hell of a lot more, but to be at the point where you could buy people a building and get a giant bow custom made to go with it, well, no wonder Tony went through some wild days in his youth.
"Kind of embarrassed with what I got you now," Steve said as we followed Bruce to the front door. There was a lot of room and a lot of work to do. Plenty of opportunity for Bruce to impress his own personality on the building. I noted the ceilings had extra height and the doors had extra width. The windows were big and had a good view of the grounds that came with it.
"Any idea what you're going to do with the outside space?" I asked.
"Let me figure out what I'm gonna do with the inside first," Bruce said with a laugh. Some of the walls were plastered and painted over, others were exposed brick. There was a sense of the unfinished about it. I wouldn't have put it past Tony to have found it in its final stages of completion and telling the decorators to clear out so he could get his own, trusted, team in once he knew what Bruce wanted.
There were two floors plus a basement; the latter already earmarked for conversion into a lab. Would be a pretty big lab, almost the same size as his one at the compound. The top most floor was complete with a balcony, accessed from what would likely become the master bedroom.
It was empty and echoed like a habitable building had no right to echo, but Steve and I both watched him as he showed us around. And yes, he still tugged at his hands or shoved them deep into his pockets, and yes he did shuffle from one spot to another, but it was more excitement than nerves. Anticipation rather than a damaged confidence. His eyes darted around but there was a slight lift to his lips. This was a prospect he looked forward to, and I could imagine him living here. Kicking his feet up and flicking through Netflix, or settling into an armchair with a book. A hulk-friendly book, not one that would tear apart as he tried to turn the page.
"What do you guys think?" He asked as we stepped off the stairs back onto ground level. Weak sunlight filtered through the windows, doing its best impression of a summer's day.
"I think," Steve said as he took one last look around, "Christmas is at yours this year. It's great Bruce. And you look good in it."
"I dunno about that."
"He's right," I said, "you already look at home."
1 March 2019
Hey Tom,
I learned a new term today.
Ravager.
Not sure what it means, but Rocket and Nebula saved one of their ships from being blown apart by some thugs.
They answered a distress signal and it's taken them a little off course but that's fine. The main reason for being out there is to help those who need help and keep things peaceful, if they can.
It was one of many conversations I had during, what I've decided to christen, Callday.
Rhodey was one of them, updating me on all the leads he'd followed into dead ends on our new mystery killer case. Tony was trying to see if we had enough data for him to build an algorithm that could predict where our killer might pop up next. Not only did that sound a bit Minority Report to me, but also too much like Project Insight. He came to that conclusion too and shut it down.
Just because you could do something doesn't mean you should.
Pepper then took her turn. Morgan joined her on it, she proved to be the biggest distraction we've ever had and it took far longer than it should have for her mother to tell me to take a look at the photos sent over for the Christmas competition so we could decide the winners.
I told her she should still be taking some time off, and for that I got an uncharacteristic huff of annoyance that gave away I wasn't the first to say it. She made Morgan wave goodbye and signed off.
I was just scrolling through the far too many photos when FRIDAY patched Okoye through.
The tinge of hologram that flickered around her took nothing away from the stature with which she stood. If someone who didn't know her looked at her, they would know she was a leader. It was there in the way she carried herself; as she stood, as she walked. It was laced throughout the way she spoke, softly spoken when needed, harsh and ringing when called for. Authority made a home for itself in her voice.
Everything about her said 'don't mess with me', and no one did. If my background had been less intense I'd probably be intimidated by her.
"I was going to keep this quick, I thought you might be busy. But..." She arched an eyebrow at the photos I was looking at on my tablet and pierced me with a look even I had trouble scrutinising.
"Stupid competition we held over Christmas," I said and locked my screen.
"Ah, yes. There should be an entry in there from Wakanda."
"How did your guys decorate it?"
"With style," she said with a twist of her lips and I laughed.
"Wakanda won't win," I said, "seems silly if we're all there in a couple of months and we don't pay a visit. And it wouldn't be fair if we went twice. I'll add it to the agenda before I regret it."
Her smile was warm and she waited for me to finish instructing FRIDAY to make the amend.
"They will be excited. The children here idolise those T'challa chose to fight alongside."
"We came to your country, tore up the land, and watched half the people disappear. Not much to idolise."
"You took a stand against impossible odds. It is not always victory that makes a hero."
I looked down at my tablet and thought about all the research I had in a secure file. Time Stone this and Time Stone that. Five other sub folders, almost empty except for the basics. Waiting for further research to fill them up. The reason for my sleepless nights and the anniversary yet to come.
"Victory would have been nice, though," I allowed myself to say. I don't know if she heard, she didn't say anything for a few seconds and when she did speak it was straight down to business.
"Most of the dignitaries will be arriving the morning of the anniversary."
"These would be the very same people I betrayed when I let Steve go in Germany."
"Yes."
"How early would you like me to arrive?"
"Am I that transparent?"
"It's not my first time."
"A couple of days, if you can manage it. You'll have a room set up here so you can carry on with your work."
"Not a problem. Steve?"
"If he could arrive with you that would make things simpler. Who else is attending?"
"Rhodey, he'll be turning up with Tony and Pepper. Then there's Bruce. Carol will be there in person and Rocket and Nebula will be there in hologram, if they're able. I'm not sure about Thor.."
"Almost the full line-up."
"As full as it's gonna get."
There was a pause and neither of us knew how to fill it. A notification pinged through from FRIDAY but I ignored it. If it was urgent she would have spoken.
"Both of us are more suited to action," Okoye said, "and yet, we've both been caught by the red tape."
"We should probably learn how to say no."
She laughed, I think there was some bitterness to it.
"Wouldn't matter, people like us always step up to do what needs to be done. I love my country, you love your team. They both needed us to keep from falling apart."
15 March 2019
It was like walking into a joke.
A god, a rock man, and a bug-like-thing are all sitting on the sofa together.
The punch line?
I wish there was one.
Sometimes you prod at things and then poke at them and as time goes on your actions become more invested until you realise the once harmless looking thing you were kicking was in actual fact a hornet's nest.
That's what I did with Thor.
I prodded him to talk. Then I poked Valkyrie to make him talk. Then I shook her for more details until I was walking off the Quinjet, as soon as it landed in New Asgard, ready to kick down his door (and anyone who stood in my way).
I gave Valkyrie a heads up; part common courtesy, part necessity with the amended Accords. And that, of course, meant I expected to touch down surrounded by protective warrior people telling me to be on my way.
What I got was Valkyrie herself in waders and an anorak, wearing a defeated if somewhat impatient expression.
"You're later than I thought," she called as I stepped out of the jet.
"Sorry, there was traffic over the North Atlantic."
"You know, I've read up about you."
"Oh goodie, you can join the club. General Ross is a big fan."
"No mention of you being funny."
"Excellent, unappreciated in my time. All the best people are."
We stood there, at the foot of a hill, but still somehow above the village, and sized each other up. Tony was so sure she was isolating Thor from us that some of his paranoia started to rub off on me. Several times he threatened to go out there, blasters blazing, and I only managed to stop him by suggesting I scope it out first. But, as we looked each other up and down, I saw nothing but the same person who came knocking at the compound. I'm sure she had secrets and judging from what Bruce had told me, there was some darkness there, as there was with everyone. But not the sort Tony had convinced himself of.
"How is he?" I asked and she shook her head. There was a burst of anger in her eyes and for a moment I didn't know what it was directed at. It burned bright and it burned hot and I could see the warrior spirit within her.
"At first we thought he was getting better. But getting him to come outside is impossible. He just eats and drinks and plays games and pretends like everything is fine. Any fool can see it is not."
The urge to swear and yell was strong. I hated him leaving, I thought he was making progress but then he upped and left before I could be sure. The only thing that made me okay with it was the possibility that being with his people was the salve he needed. That they might help stitch together his wounds better than we ever could. It was then I knew Valkyrie's anger was aimed at Thor because that's where I felt mine going. I wanted to yell at him, slap him until he came to his senses.
But I took a deep breath.
That wouldn't help anyone.
"I know right," the Asgardian smirked, "the man's infuriating. But I get it. We just have to be thankful he didn't sink lower. Hel, I did when it was me. And anyone shouting at me would just drive me further down."
"And how did you climb back out of it?"
"His royal drunkness gave me purpose again. Mixed with it being the right time, I guess. Any earlier and I would have shut him down."
We started to walk towards the village, the grass sloping beneath us and the sound of the sea carried on the wind, which dragged long fingers through our hair.
"Cosy place you got here, " I said once we were on the pathway that overlooked the settlement.
"Not a patch on the original, but it has a certain charm."
The dirt track soon turned into a paved path and she lead me down to the very centre of the village, which also happened to be based around the docks. Survivors of Hela and Thanos milled around, bringing in their catch from the sea, fixing traps, or repairing ropes and netting. It was quaint. Heartening to see how easily they adapted to their new life, but sad that they even had to. A race of such might reduced to dregs by the goddess and harbinger of death.
"He's in that one," my companion nodded to a building that overlooked the water, "don't expect much. He's got his buddies over."
I knocked twice, the only answer a muffled yell that I took to mean 'come in'. The door creaked a little, hinges no doubt rusted in the salt air, and so did the floorboards. The hallway was crowded with stuff. It was the only word I could think of to describe it.
Just stuff.
Voices trickled out from a room to my left and I braced myself for what I was going to see. I could already tell from the voice that he was Thor, but not really. The laughter that boomed out was false, as was the cheer he injected into his voice. His speech was a little slurred and it pained me to think how much he had to drink to get like that.
And that brings us back to the joke I walked in on. The one without a punch line.
"Natasha!"
My ears were assaulted with the noise and then my nose was overwhelmed the stench of stale beer as someone wrapped their arms around me and hugged. It took a second to realise it was Thor. The once hard muscles were less defined, the hair was longer and knotted, as was the beard, which also came with the added bonus of crumbs. When he pulled back I saw the stains on his t-shirt and the beer cans and bottles dotted around the place.
"Friends, this is Natasha. She is a much fearsome Midgardian warrior who has dispatched many an enemy at my side. Natasha, these are my friends."
The lump of stone stood up, some rock dust fell from his shirt and joints, and offered me a hand.
"Hi there. Name's Korg. Don't worry, I am made of rock, this isn't a skin condition. And that over there is Miek and she's, well, I'm not really sure what she is but she's killing us on this game. Would you like to join? We have another controller round here somewhere. I think Groot the fern has it."
For the first time I spotted the TV that took centre stage in the room. While it paled in comparison to Friday, it was still an impressive set up. And next to that was indeed a plant with a console controller hanging out in its soil.
The tips of its leaves were browning and the soil looked dry. There were bottles around it that made me suspect it wasn't get the right type of liquid.
"Don't let Rocket know you've named your plant after Groot."
"Rabbit! How is he? Does he still mutter and grumble to himself? He is the grumpiest rabbit."
"Err, sorry to interrupt, Thor, Natasha. But I need an answer about the game before we continue. Don't want to get into it only to pause again because we need to add another player. You know, how it gets, right Thor? Miek is not a patient person."
"I'm fine, thank you Korg. I'm just here to speak with Thor."
"Oh, okay. Enjoy your conversation. We'll try not to listen in." He rejoined his friend on the sofa and both of them resumed what they were doing. Thor looked at them with the bemused expression that seemed to be a permanent feature.
"Do not be down hearted, friend. I have never seen Natasha entertain such frivolities."
"You make me sound boring," I said, willing to see if small talk would get us anywhere. This was promising to be the most I'd ever heard him speak since Thanos.
"'Boring' is one of the few words I would never use to describe you. Would you like a libation?" He shuffled over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers from it. I shook my head. "Hmm, more for me then."
The coastal wind whipped around the house and rattled the light fixtures as it passed. Through the window I saw waves crashing in on themselves, rushing to the shore then receding back. Gunfire and explosions crackled from the TV, and there was a hiss of release as Thor used Stormbreaker to open his drink.
"How're you doing?" I asked after he settled himself into an armchair and I was left standing. The bottle clinked against others as he put it down on a small table beside him, empty packets and wrappers overflowed onto the floor.
"Is that why you are here? To inquire after my wellbeing?"
"Sort of. I wanted to let you know you're not required to attend the anniversary next month. They understand you and your people have a lot to adapt to and they need you more than we do."
"Ah, you are here to coddle me further," he stood up and the chair scraped back a couple of inches. The man towered over me but he wasn't as intimidating as he once was. "I do not need your sympathy, I am fine. I have my friends and our games. My people thrive in this tiny village. I will honour our fallen comrades who now sing their songs of victory in the halls of Valhalla. I will be in Wakanda. What can the memory of Thanos take away from me that the real thing hasn't?"
He flinched as he spoke. Bitterness swirled around his words and he took another swig of beer to wash it away. Then, with a sigh, he threw himself back into the armchair and helped himself to a cold slice of pizza from the box at his feet.
Again, I wanted to yell at him, tell him a memory is often more powerful. They build up until they are all consuming, until you are afraid to think or dream. Memories haunt and goad and torment. It was already taking away his mind, could he not see that?
No, he couldn't. He was feeding himself and he was speaking. He enjoyed the company of his friends, who eyed us from the sofa, having paused the game again as Thor spoke. He pretended to the world, and to himself, that he was fine. But he was the only one who believed it.
"You are welcome to stay, Natasha, as long as you do not talk about Wakanda again."
I stayed. What can you do? It didn't matter how frustrating he was, I couldn't turn my back on a friend.
I watched them play their game, even tried the frivolity for myself. Drank their drinks and ate their food. And I stayed silent as my heart broke at the shattered sight of one of the strongest people I knew.
"Oh, hang on there," Korg said as I got up to leave, "I started up a Sakaaran book club. Well actually, it began as a rebellion but, as you can see, we're not on Sakaar anymore. Take a leaflet, we meet on the last Friday of every month, there are snacks and drinks. Much like a rebellion army, a bookworm marches on their stomach, I think. We're reading Animal Farm this month. Sounds cute."
I took his leaflet. He'd crossed out the word rebellion with black marker and written book club underneath it.
"Thanks."
Thor followed me to the door, which I didn't expect. He'd looked pretty attached to the armchair for most of the day. For the first time I saw something other than forced geniality. I hugged him.
"You really don't have to go," I whispered.
"I am fine," he said, though with less conviction.
"No, you're not," I said but the door was closed before the words were finished. I trekked my way to the ship and struggled to blink back the tears.
23 March 2019
Hi Tom,
The news is going crazy.
Police and forensics splashed across each channel, website and front page. If I catch the reports at the right time I see myself, Rhodey and Steve walking out of a building together. Or Rhodey at the press conference as he explained the details.
Another mass killing.
Once again all the victims are gang members.
No survivors.
But they don't care. They have other questions. Why are the Avengers involved? Is it a new vigilante? Or another super villain? The more extreme ask if there's any point in investigating? They're killing killers, after all.
Rhodey answers, deflects and distracts with practiced ease.
The Whitehouse isn't impressed with the optics of all three of us visiting the crime scenes. For once I agree with them. Panic is the last thing anyone needs. And that's sad because the Avengers aren't supposed to incite panic, we're supposed to erase it.
So, we've agreed, Rhodey will be the only one to visit the crime scenes in future. He will send us video and photos.
The man still needs rest though, so I sent him to track down a lead Steve had already exhausted. While his superiors think he's on a radio silent job, he's in fact recharging at Tony and Pepper's. Falling a little more in love with Morgan every day.
It took some coaxing, actually it took threatening, and not even from me. I didn't ask the details, but Rhodey said Tony could be very convincing when he needed to be.
Meanwhile I'm looking into some community outreach initiatives that Steve and I can work with, Bruce too once he's hulked up, and the others whenever they're back on Earth.